


It Began with the Truth

by Merily



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:07:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29585604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merily/pseuds/Merily
Summary: She told her sister it was indecent to be a sore loser and so stopped lingering on the disappointment and shame of losing – of coming in last, no less. This was a lie. The truth was she would remember Cedric Diggory’s corpse and her mother and sister sobbing into her hair. The reality was a cold, stale reminder she was lucky to be alive.
Relationships: Fleur Delacour/Bill Weasley
Kudos: 6





	It Began with the Truth

**Author's Note:**

> I've been on a bit of a Harry Potter binge lately and I really like Bill and Fleur's relationship. This was just a short thing I wrote because I was thinking about how they really started talking at Gringotts. 
> 
> Unsure if this is still needed from the Ye Olde Era of Fanfic, but I Do Not Own Harry Potter or the characters!

The word ‘champion’ left a bitter taste in Fleur’s mouth. It was naïve to think eternal glory would change how the world viewed her, but the moment news of the tournament left Madame Maxime’s lips, Fleur knew she wanted it more than anything. She told her sister it was indecent to be a sore loser and so stopped lingering on the disappointment and shame of losing – of coming in _last,_ no less. This was a lie. The truth was she would remember Cedric Diggory’s corpse and her mother and sister sobbing into her hair. The reality was a cold, stale reminder she was lucky to be alive.

It was a great reminder to keep her head from sinking needlessly into places it didn't belong. Still, it was a horrible reminder when she spent cold nights alone in her flat missing her family. She dreamed about corpses and grindylows and loss and would wake with a terrible aching in her chest.

As Fleur expected, she liked her job. She didn’t expect to actually like most of her coworkers. Predictably, anyone attracted to women could hardly form a coherent sentence without gazes going to her legs or breasts, but Fleur was pleasantly surprised when some of the women became less intimidated and jealous by Fleur's second week. She had someone to sit with at lunch, at least, and that was a nice change of pace in a new environment.

She also did not expect to run into Bill Weasley again. Fleur had been attracted to him from the start, liking his fanged earring and ripped jeans. There was also something about the way he and his mother had shown up to support Harry – the little boy with no family and no business being in such a dangerous tournament – that warmed her heart. She resolved to tell him the next time they were in the breakroom together. However, when the time came, she walked in on a conversation she wasn’t supposed to hear.

“What the hell with you?!” Bill Weasley’s tone was thick with disgust, and Fleur stopped in the doorway, eyebrows furrowing. Bill was in a hostile argument with another worker she had only seen once or twice since starting.

“What the hell’s wrong with _me_?! You’re the one that believes a crackpot old fool and a famous teenager that just wants attention saying that _You Know Who_ has returned –”

Realization dawned on Fleur immediately, and suddenly Harry Potter's grief-stricken and traumatized sobbing echoed faintly in her ears. It was why she realized too late that she had said something – “I believe Harry Potter,” she cut in, interrupting one of them. The men’s heads whipped over to her, but she was uninterested in their reactions as she stepped in, striding to the refrigerator to grab her lunch.

She heard one of them scoff – she could guess which one.

“You only say that because you want to cushion the fact that you were the worst champion.”

Fleur turned so fast it made both men jump. Bill had opened his mouth and had maybe even started to say something, but Fleur wasn’t paying attention to him anymore. “I say it because my _friend_ died that night." Her voice had turned into a snarl, and Fleur was pleased to see the look of fear on his face. "And I refuse to insult his memory with a lie. He was killed that night by You-Know-Who in front of Harry Potter, and he has risen to power, and if you are too – too – too _moronic_ to believe it, that is your own damn fault.”

Furious and breathing heavily, Fleur’s hands balled into fists, her sharp nails digging into her palms. The man’s mouth was open, stuttering something that she had heard before. The words _Bitch_ and _French_ in some sort of condescending tone were flung at her, bouncing off without her batting an eyelash.

"You may call me whatever you wish; I do not give a single damn. But you will not insult Cedric Diggory's name in front of me _ever_ again, or I will curse your skin to peel. Am I understood?" He hadn't stopped to really listen, he was backing up, and by the time she reached the end of her little threat, he was hightailing it out the breakroom door.

She had forgotten Bill Weasley was there until he cleared his throat, and she looked at him, her gaze still sharp. "What?" The cynical part of her was expecting him to say something stupid. _You look so sexy when you’re mad_ – that was one she heard over and over again in school, and she almost expected it to come out of his mouth too. He surprised her again.

“You alright?” was all he said, and it took her a moment to register the words and what they meant because that hadn’t been what she expected at all.

“I do not tolerate stupidity,” she replied, her tone flat and devoid of emotion. Bill didn’t seem to know what to say to that, and honestly, Fleur was glad because she didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “I remember you.”

It was his turn to say: “What?”

"I thought it was nice that you and your mother came to see Harry before the third task," she clarified. Bill stared at her a moment as if considering these words before he gave her a grim smile.

“Harry’s like family to us,” he replied.

“I think it is nice you’re willing to publicly stand up for him and for Dumbledore. He faced many horrors in that tournament, even apart from what happened that night.” Fleur said what she wanted to say before getting distracted by the awful man, so she supposed she was done here. She turned on her heel and plucked her lunch out of the still open refrigerator door.

“Were you and Cedric close?" The question was so quiet that Fleur wasn't sure she heard it at all. But when she turned to look at Bill, he was looking straight into her eyes. Fleur's mouth parted, considering.

She found herself answering honestly. “Not as much as I wanted to be,” Fleur said. It was desperate, and Fleur had never admitted it out loud before. It felt bitter and sad and free. Fleur liked Cedric a lot. He treated her as kind and smart and pretty – she wanted more. Once he turned her down for the Yule Ball, they fell into an easy friendship she never had with anyone else. Now that it was gone, she sorely missed it. After a moment of blinking back the pressure rising behind her eyes, she said, "He was my friend. And I miss him very much."

“So, you stand with Harry and Dumbledore.”

“No. Well… Yes,” Fleur corrected herself. Bill looked confused, so she continued. “I stand with _Harry_. I thought Harry had – what’s the word – _swindled_ the Goblet of Fire for his own shot at more eternal glory than he already had. He proved me wrong when he saved my sister needlessly in the second task. I knew the riddle they had given me wasn’t to be taken seriously, but somehow… I couldn’t stop the panic that overcame me when I was forced back to shore after the grindylows attacked. She was down there, so young and little and _alone_ , and they refused to let me go _back_ – I didn’t want points, I didn’t want to place in the tournament. I just wanted her back and safe and…. Harry did something noble and brave and brought her back for me.” Something unfamiliar flashed in Bill’s eyes, but he didn’t interrupt, even as Fleur took a moment to dab at the corners of her eyes. She should be mortified that she had teared up in the first place, but she wasn’t. Fleur was too tired to be anything but honest at that moment.

“And then he did it again. He did the right thing – no. Not right. No one would have blamed him if he hadn’t… But, he did the _brave_ thing. And he brought my friend back to us after something horrible had happened to them both. He brought Cedric’s body back. He didn’t need to do either of those things. So, I stand with Harry Potter. I do not believe he is lying, and I will not tolerate stupidity or propaganda by your ministry when they say otherwise.”

They stared at each other for a long time. It was a lot for a first real conversation. There were none of the usual pleasantries – _how are you_ or _the weather was awful coming in_ – but it was reality, and it was the truth. Fleur decided it wasn't worth hiding the truth from him. She was tired and furious. Until this moment, Fleur hadn't realized just how angry she actually was.

“Harry Potter saved my little sister too,” Bill broke the silence, his quiet tone shaking Fleur from her thoughts. “Two years ago.”

The lump forming in the back of her throat was getting harder to ignore as she processed this information. "He – Harry isn't lying," Fleur said, her voice strangled with emotion. Bill suddenly thrust an unopened can of soda in her hands from his ratty brown lunch bag. She looked down at it, confused.

"The sugar and the bubbles will help," he said. She stared down at it before looking back up at him.

"Do you want to get a drink with me after work?" Fleur asked. As a rule, she didn't usually get _drinks_ with someone. It wasn't really her thing, but Bill looked like the kind of guy that did, and Fleur wanted to talk to him more. And she felt silly and desperate all over again as she clutched the can of soda she likely wasn't even going to drink, but Fleur didn't care. She was tired and angry and lonely; Fleur watched as a small smile spread across Bill's face. She saw then his bright blue eyes were wet and filled with an emotion she didn't recognize; Fleur knew then that she wanted to recognize it, and she wanted to learn more. To ask him questions. To talk more about his family and work and the state of the world they were both living in right now.

“Yeah. I’d love to.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! :) 
> 
> Meri


End file.
